


Cursed Kingdom : Hermitcraft A.U

by Powder404



Category: Hermitcraft RPF, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Medieval, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:21:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27915925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Powder404/pseuds/Powder404
Summary: A world filled with magic, dragons, warriors and entities is a world with obstacles. A world that doesn't understand difference is a dangerous world. And a world that refuses change is doomed to never exist.King Eric Jumbo learns the hard way of what happens when you're an inconsiderate man child who takes everything for granted. His punishment is given to him by his own son, who he watches tear down everything he's ever tried to build up.----*SLOW UPDATES*Join the adventure with the Medieval Hermits while reading in multiple perspectives.Cursed Kingdom - A Medieval hermitcraft A.U
Relationships: All hermits - Relationship, Other Relationship Tags to Be Added
Kudos: 25





	1. Ch. 1 = A Merchant Vs. A Prince

If you were to ask King Erik Jumbo who his heir to the throne of River Sun was, he would state without hesitation that he quote- "had no heir to his throne." But already that was just one of many lies the king had under his sleeve. For Erik did have an heir, just not a very believable one. 

Erik Jumbo's son, his only child as a matter of fact, was Mumbo Jumbo.

Mumbo was an odd one, for Mumbo was a prince who did not laugh at any kind of Jester or even crack a smile. The prince could be held at sword point by an enemy soldier and would not even grant that request to save his own life. 

Mass amounts of gossip constantly flow from the kingdom, for a prince who does not even smile at his father is not an ideal marriage choice. That situation alone causes more scandalous drama and risk for Erik Jumbo's dynasty as a whole. A king without a queen is useless, and the same goes for a prince without a princess. 

"What if the prince is gay? What kind of torment must the king go through then?" 

"The prince is cursed! No regular person stares in the face of a jester and remains so vacant without cracking at least one grin. The poor Jester Scar must feel pressured all the time!" 

"The prince must be horrible to the servants within the palace as well! Constantly stoic and cold. There's no hope for the young man!" 

Those statements were common questions and statements that are heard off of castle grounds where the news and gossip fountained the most. Everyone wanted to know what happened, everyone wanted to figure out why the Jumbo Dynasty was the way it was. Everybody wanted answers. 

But only the innermost staff of the castle knew. And all of them were forbidden from speaking of anything on the matter. A punishment with the failure of compliance was a fast trip to the gallows. An order that King Erik Jumbo has not failed to execute out to the fullest extent, not even once. 

\----------------------- 

Captain of the royal guard, XisumaVoid was marching through the beautiful halls of the castle. At each of his sides were lieutenants Rendog and Bdouble0100. The three of them were to escort Prince Mumbo down to the Great Hall this morning for breakfast. On normal occasions, only Xisuma would have to escort Mumbo down, but this morning was different from the others. Today, River Sun- along with all its allies were meeting here to divide up war loot and trade. 

"Man, I had to change my entire rotation for this." Rendog complained through the brief moment of silence. His usually messy hair was now put up in a nicer pony tail to bring it out of his face. 

The captain gave a weary sigh, not looking back at the lieutenant. "Ren, you know how much the king likes tradition. Besides, you can't go up to the king and say that." 

Bdubs let out a huff of air. "You know Mumbo doesn't like it when you say that sort of thing, right captain?" 

Xisuma's face scrunched up.  _ "I can never win can I?"  _ He thought grimly, falling quiet again. The captain stared straight ahead and continued marching. 

Further down the glamorous halls sat a single room at one of the higher points in the castle. A single room that was more or less secluded from the rest of the palace. Inside the room, two people moved about in a sort of semi silence. Discussing smaller things in the privatized setting. 

"Why three soldiers?" Mumbo questioned, staring ahead at a mirror.

Prince Mumbo was a lanky man. Never really reaching a proper masculine body type like any other normal young man, even at the ideal age of marriage- twenty five. Black hair sat on sickly pale skin and cold looking black eyes accompanied it. 

He was sitting tall in a chair with his shoulders back in front of a mirror that sat on top of a grand dresser drawer. He appeared bored and annoyed all at the same time. Though that expression was one that was never rare for him. 

For attire, the prince was wearing a white colored shirt with a black colored sash draping from his left shoulder and crossing his midsection. The sash was littered with gemstones, lovely jewels and metal links. At his legs were black pants with white ends at his ankles; the pants near the bottom- had similar treatment. On his feet were uncomfortable black dress shoes that were perfectly shined, much to the labor and time put in by the person who Mumbo was complaining to. 

The quiet steps of the second party signaled to Mumbo that they were still present. 

"Your highness, as much as you hate me saying this-" 

The black haired prince let out a sharp huff of air, which ultimately cut the second party off. "Zedaph, don't even quote the old sod." 

A quiet hum of acknowledgement reached Mumbo's ears and the second party's footsteps neared. "As you wish, your highness." 

Mumbo twitched at the title. 

Going up and standing beside Mumbo with several articles of decorative clothing dangling from his arms was a relatively short man with blond hair and  _ almost _ purple colored eyes. The blond haired man wore a white shirt with puffy sleeves and black pants. Over top of the shirt was a black/grey colored vest and at his waist hanging down his front was a white apron. At his feet were dark grey shoes with white stockings that were mildly decorated at the top. 

"I have a name, Zedaph." Mumbo finally proclaimed with a pinch of annoyance, a crease becoming visible in his facial features. "And it's not 'highness'." 

Zedaph paused, a ribbon was in one of his hands while other decorative clothing such as pins, buttons, ties and cufflinks hung from his forearm downward. 

The blond haired man simply gave a quiet sigh. "I know you have a name, but I have to call you that. Or... I could get in big trouble." 

With a shake of his head, Zedaph quickly aimed to change the topic. "Now what do you want? Do you want cufflinks at your sleeves? Maybe a tie or bow around your neck?" 

"Must I wear such useless items?" Mumbo shot quickly, giving an exhausted sounding sigh. 

Zedaph's eyebrows furrowed and his lips curled ever so slightly downward. "Oh don't be that way your highness. Now please hold onto these for a moment." 

A pair of cufflinks were then gently dropped into Mumbo's hands and Zedaph pulled out in front of him, now only holding a nice red bow tie in both hands. The two fell silent once again as Zedaph went to work, making sure to wrap the bow tie gently around Mumbo's neck, but at the same time, trying to make sure it would remain in its place. 

Zedaph gave one final, gentle tug on each end loop of the ribbon, straightening the bow out. He then took a small step back and wisped his hands lightly over each of Mumbo's shoulders as if to dust something off of him. 

Zedaph gave a smile, pride swelling in his chest at his work. "There! Now just one last touch." Taking the cufflinks back from Mumbo, Zedaph began to pinch the buttons onto the bottoms of the prince's sleeves. 

Mumbo simply remained still for the blond haired man but his silence was never to be confused for inactivity. His black eyes were ever scanning the room around him from the mirror. 

After another second of silence, Mumbo suddenly shifted in his chair towards the door. The sudden movement caused Zedaph to jump and quickly turn his head to the door as well. 

Three firm knocks then hit against the door and echoed through the chamber. "Zedaph? Is Mumbo ready?" 

Zedaph took a deep breath, he finished placing the last cufflink on before going past Mumbo and making a V line for the door. 

Three more knocks followed. "Zedaph?" 

Zedaph gave a silent huff and then opened the door. Captain Xisuma and Lieutenants Rendog and Bdouble0100 stood in the entrance. "He is." 

The blond haired man turned around to call over to Mumbo, but he jumped once again when he came face to the prince almost immediately. 

Mumbo looked down at Zedaph, giving a nod of his head. "Thank you Zedaph. Please meet me in the usual spot in a half an hour." 

Zedaph watched Captain Void's face shift into a grimace at the request, but he showed mild defeat as well. Bdubs and Ren also both shared two small side glances of worry. The three obviously knew what that would entail. It would begin with Mumbo just walking away from whoever he was talking to once the time had come. The person would get offended, demand for the king and then the entire situation would either escalate or pipe down from there. 

Mumbo may have never broken a promise but he did it in a very rude way which he was very greatly remembered for. So without one other word or a single break of facial character, Mumbo strolled out of his chambers and into the hall where Xisuma, Ren and Bdubs were waiting oh so patiently. 

Zedaph merely gave a quiet sigh as the four went down the hall and slowly went out of view. 

_ "Thank you Zedaph. Please meet me in the usual spot in half an hour."  _

The usual spot. Aka the back courtyard of the palace grounds. The spot where Zedaph and Mumbo both went to 'relax' and 'hang out'. Yeah, that's what they did. 

With a sigh, Zedaph turned and shut the chamber doors then cupped his hands together and turned to the left to walk the opposite way the four had originally gone to go wait in the requested area. 

\----------------------- 

The huge wooden cart wheels were planted on the ground and the chains around his midsection were starting to get really painful. How long had he been in their captivity? Was it six months? Was it a year? He wasn't exactly sure anymore. But he had been in this weird, pretty court yard since early this morning. 

He could tell that his seller or enslaver wasn't happy about the early time but nevertheless they were both here.

There were people- fancy looking people- passing by the cage he was in. His seller was desperately trying to get their attention. None of them paid him any mind though. He wasn't sure if he should be glad they weren't paying attention to his seller or he should feel insulted that they didn't wanna hear anything about him. 

Nobles continued to pass by. They were pointing to items and other prisoners and they were talking to others in funny, colorful costumes about things that he didn't understand. But they were pointing and describing other prisoners that were also in cage boxes. 

After a while, he turned his head ever slightly to the right. 

More people had begun funneling out of two massive doors. They all must have originally come from inside the huge castle thing. Some people even stopped and turned around, peering inside the castle before continuing their stroll into the courtyard. 

Why they stopped and turned around he would never really know. 

After watching all the people he simply closed his eyes and turned his head down, doing his best to curl up in the most manageable ball he could muster. He thought he felt himself drift off to sleep despite all the bustling people running to and fro. For how long he had gone out he had no idea. 

"Interested in this beaute of a bird, your highness?" 

He opened his blue colored eyes. 

Multiple people were now standing in front of his cage. Four people to be exact, four men. 

There was one with a tan grey, baggy shirt. Black straps held up grey pants and a brown scarf was wrung around his neck. He had brown hair and a beard and he had a black piece of cloth wrapped over his left eye, hiding it from view. Though his visible eye was a light brown. 

Standing next to that man was a shorter one. This man was wearing one of those funny costumes that some of the other people were wearing except this one wasn't as colorful and he didn't have as crazy of a hat on his head, simply a fun beanie hat. He had pale skin that had scars littering his cheeks and near to his eyes. His eyes were a brownish green. 

The third man was wearing an outfit that made him look like a mix between a chef and one of those servers with a white shirt and puffy sleeves and one of those aprons tied around his waist. Blond hair sat somewhat unkept on his head and he had strikingly purple colored eyes, even if they weren't as defined. 

The final man was the tallest. He wore much fancier clothing and he stood like he held a lot of power. Sharp black eyes pierced every defence that his blue eyed victim had with frightening ease and this final man was the only one to not break eye contact with him. Black hair was skewed every which way on his head. 

"What kind of bird is… He? She?" The tallest man finally questioned. The other's eyes were now all back on him though he did not return their gazes. 

The seller gave an eager grin, like he had been waiting for someone to ask him that all day. In a way he had been but nobody would have asked him willingly until this particular royal. 

"Well I'm glad you asked your highness. This lovely is a double winged harpy. A difficult one to nag but he's a sight to behold ain't he?" 

The man in the funny costume gave a glance to the royal before looking back at him. "I'll admit the-the harpy is very beautiful." 

"You bet your Adams apple on it, clown." The seller bragged, giving a cocky, toothy grin towards the funny costume wearer. 

The prince and the man in the funny costume both physically cringed at the name call, but neither spoke up. 

"Does this harpy have a name?" Questioned the man with the brown scarf, looking toward the seller. 

The seller gave a hard glare back at the man, as if he was offended by the man speaking to him. "Don't you have a horse's shit to clean up, stable boy?" 

The harpy watched as the prince's eyes narrowed then shifted over to the seller in what appeared to be a barely controlled fit of rage, despite appearing very blank in expression and attitude. 

"If you dare talk to him like that again, I'll have your tongue torn from your mouth and strung to a necklace." The prince snapped harshly. The tone clearly stated that the prince would have his threat carried out if the seller wasn't careful. 

The harpy watched the seller flinch from shock before falling silent with a slight nod of his head with understanding. That alone allowed the harpy to also understand what type of person this tall man was. A man with a short fuse and with enough power to demand harm to another and succeed. 

The man with the apron looked up warily at the prince after the small outburst. His hands were cupped together in front of him as if it were his natural standing position. "Do you… wish to purchase this harpy, your highness?" 

The royal's black eyes turned away from the seller and back onto the harpy who mildly shrunk away from them in his cage. The royal's eyes may have appeared dead but there was some sort of story there, even if it was deeply shrouded in a cold exterior. 

The black haired prince suddenly spoke up after a pause of consideration. "What's the cost?" 

The seller turned his head up again but he still kept it dipped down in a meeker position than before. "The price for this bird? Well I'd say ol' Grian here is worth at least five hundred gold pieces or even more, your highness." 

Grian. Right. That was his name, Grian. He had forgotten again hadn't he? 

The prince turned towards the man with the apron. "You'll have to make do with the five hundred. Zedaph if you would." 

The man with the apron, Zedaph, reached back and pulled out a leather pouch that was possibly hidden in an extra pocket on his person. He went to wordlessly hand the pouch to the prince. 

The seller stuttered his protest. "Your highness! This bird is obviously worth so much more than a measly five hundred. Besides, the gold would greatly help an old suffering man and his community like myself. Wouldn't you agree?" 

With a scrunched brow, the seller gestured with his hands semi-dramatically to help him better explain his reasoning. He stepped up in front of Grian's cage and forward towards the prince. 

Grian craned his head to observe the prince. He watched the royal stop where he was, then turn towards the seller with an angry looking expression. He pushed the leather pouch back towards Zedaph before turning fully to the much shorter merchant. Threateningly, the prince stalked up until he was standing directly in front of Grian's seller. He was obviously using his towering height to the fullest advantage he could. 

"You assault my followers with your words, you brag endlessly over the mistreatment of your 'product', you lie to woo pity from me as if you have no idea how I act in the first place and now you demand that I pay a more 'generous' fee than what I've already offered to give you." 

One of the prince's followers- the one with the brown scarf- visibly cringed. He hesitantly reached a hand up and towards the taller man. "Mumbo- er- your highness. Let's just be rational here! There's no need for a violent outcome." 

Grian watched as Zedaph and the funny costume wearer ducked their heads and remained silent. The harpy then turned his attention back to the prince and the seller, who looked absolutely terrified with his back now against the wooden posts on his cage. 

After a moment of hot tension, the prince, Mumbo, gave a soft sigh as he visibly relaxed and calmed down. Mumbo took a step away from the shorter man. 

The man with the brown scarf stepped up to Mumbo, placing a hand on his forearm. Grian listened as he spoke something in some weird gibberish to the prince that the harpy didn't understand, though according to the attentiveness of the tallest man, he understood the gibberish. 

"Sold… t-to the young prince, Mumbo Jumbo, for-for five hundred gold." The merchant stuttered out. "Take good care of Grian, your highness." 

\-----------------------

"Hurry along, before my father finds out that I purchased someone without his 'formal' permission." 

"Your old man is gonna be pissed, dude." 

That statement alone prevented Xisuma from dozing off next to the grand hall stair case. That statement, along with the all too familiar commanding voice, the casualty of the second voice and the mention of  _ four  _ other people. Now Xisuma knew that the prince brought other unregistered guests into the palace; usually only Iskall but still. 

"How can you possibly have the courage to speak so casually, Iskall? Especially when… anyone could overhear." 

The captain of the royal guard straightened his posture. Now he was sure he recognized the name and the third voice. 

Five shadows made their way closer and Xisuma turned to confront them. After a second, four people rounded the corner, along with one unfamiliar one. A very colorful someone. 

"Your highness? Mister Eighty-Five? Zedaph? Scar? What are you four doing? And- who is this?" 

The four stopped in their place. Mumbo was in front holding onto a chain that was connecting to the colorful being's front and linking together with their wrists.

The royal Jester, Scar was on Mumbo's right. One of his hands was also gripping onto a bit of the chain. 

Zedaph was on Mumbo's left with his arm linked with the prince's. 

Then finally the stable man, Iskall Eighty-Five, was making up the back as if to reinforce it like a guard escorting a prisoner. He too had a separate chain, but this one was attached to the back of the colorful being's back. 

The colorful being in question had arms like a regular person, though the catch was that they had feathers hanging down from them. The feathers started up by the being's shoulders and ended by their wrists. These feathers were lovely mixes of blues, purples and the occasional stunning red and they hung a decent length down. 

But that wasn't all. 

Cealed against their back was another set of wings, but this time the wings were angelic like with feather colors ranging from a base dull red to vibrant yellows and poppy oranges with the occasional purple like the feathers on the arms feathers. 

Mumbo turned his head to Xisuma and they locked eyes for a moment. Brown eyes clashed with green eyes as the prince hesitated for a second. 

"Captain, this is-" Mumbo turned and gestured back to the colorful bird human. "-my new friend Grian. And you already know Zedaph, Scar and Iskall." 

Captain Void watched the prince's facial expression and he'd be lying if he didn't notice how much more awake looking Mumbo was. X would almost claim that the young prince was trying to poker face his way out of this. 

Void tilted his head to the side. "Your 'friend' your highness is in chains." 

Mumbo's eyes drifted away from Xisuma's for only a split second before returning back to him which was almost unsettling. Mumbo never broke eye contact with anyone when he was speaking or addressing them but then again- the prince always did act off when he was with Iskall. 

"If anyone asks, we will be in my chambers. And you saw nothing." The prince proclaimed hastily. 

X frowned at having to once again turn a blind eye on another one of Mumbo's group's shenanigans but it wasn't like he could defy the second highest power in the entire kingdom without proper orders from the first highest power.

Besides, the king didn't even know a fourth of what Mumbo did on the regular anymore. But did anyone truly know what the difficult young man was possibly thinking? It was very unlikely. 


	2. Ch. 2 = The Cold Misty Forest

The forest was a dangerous place. Everything wanted to kill you or chase you off. 

Examples of these were the undead monsters that lurked in the dark and attacked everything that had a proper, operating mind. The hungry, young green dragon to the west that thwarted any attempts to steal from him and the tall, ever dangerous, slumbering Frost Golem. 

But those examples had simple solutions to avoid meeting an unfortunate end. 

The undead lacked basics in intellect. Proper strategy- no matter how poor and uncoordinated it might be- would save even the most foolish of soul. 

The hungry, young green dragon to the west was the easiest. Don't go near his cave and possessions and he shall not go near you. Though Stress had learned through the few months of her permanent residence that the dragon would never turn down a meal. 

The tall, ever dangerous slumbering Frost Giant was the toughest to combat. Stress quickly learned that she needed the element of total silence to even try to pass by, nevertheless even try to attack it.

Total silence was hard enough on your own, but trying to achieve it with multiple people was a challenge that any new army would struggle over and over with. 

But then again, Stress never really had anyone to share that concern with until they came. 

-

"Miss Stress? Are you here?" 

Stress flinched, her bright blue eyes widened as she sat up straighter from her slouched over position. She sat kneeling on the edge of her small pond that neighbored her old, skull-like cottage. The moon was fully reflecting off the pond like a mirror and providing the entire area with light so little fire was necessary for vision. 

Her head and body both turned right to view who had called out her name. Her short brown hair fell away from her left eye as her head tilted naturally to a preferred angle to rest. 

Coming into the clearing, Stress could see the glowing light of a torch held flame making itself known. The flames were high in the air which illuminated the next visible parts of two bodies. Beautiful horse heads came trotting up, both side by side.

With the assistance from the held flames, Stress could see that one horse had a brown coat with white hooves and a light brown mane while the other horse had a black coat with white splotches over its body and a near grey mane. 

A-top each horse were men, one for each. And those two men were oh so familiar. 

"Iskall! Mumbo!" 

Gracefully, Stress planted her right hand down on the ground first and crossed her left leg over her right. In one powerful push with her left leg and with the assistance of her mildly bent right one, Stress rose to her feet and instantly advanced to her two friends. Her bare feet wisped the soft grass as she broke into a small run. Her lips both extended upward as a warm feeling spread through her chest. 

Both horses drew to a stop at the tug of their reigns by each rider as soon as they were out into the clearing of Stress' abode. Each man knew that they were safe here while she was in their presence. 

Iskall and Mumbo both dismounted their rides as Stress got up to them. Both being extra careful to keep the torches away from their two rides' fur and hair. 

"How was the trip?" Stress asked, now feeling more gleeful than she had been that day. 

Iskall gave a meek looking smile in the light of the torch he held, something that he always did when he was with Mumbo and her. He was wearing a grey commoner's coat, brown pants and muddy looking boots. 

"It was good, but Mumbo was being loud the entire way here!" 

Blue and green eyes turned to the prince, who simply shot Iskall a dirty look. His red eyes widening as he did so. "It's not my fault that my father is so infuriating!" He protested, grabbing a leather sack from off the black and white horse that he had just gotten off of with his free hand and slinging its strap over his shoulder.

Mumbo was wearing a dark blue cloak with a more worn looking white shirt, tan pants and older shoes. 

Stress snickered at the banter between them. She put a hand up to her lips and covered them, futilely attempting to shield her true expression. 

Iskall looked back at the brunette then pointed his index finger at her. An action which was scandalous everywhere but here; among themselves. Just the three of them. "You're encouraging him!" 

Stress burst out into bubbled laughter as Iskall groaned in exasperation and disappointment. 

Mumbo gave a victorious smirk, looking prideful of his antics. A single facial expression that only Iskall and her were gifted on seeing. He gave a small bow to Stress for added effect. "Thank you fair lady. Now-" Mumbo stood straight up again and looked at Iskall. "-shall we begin?" 

Stress nodded excitedly and gave a curtsey in response. "Indeed we shall-" she grinned and made sure that she was staring directly at the mustached prince. "-your highness." 

This time it was Iskall's turn to give a facial expression of victory. They both knew how much their tall friend hated being called a term of royalty. 

Mumbo's head shot back to Stress as he put a hand up to his chest and gave an offended facial expression to the woman. "How dare!" 

Stress bubbled with more laughter as she turned around and booked it in the opposite direction. "Come on you Neanderthals! Let's get started!" 

"Hey! Wait up!" 

-

The routine of the three was never different but it never really was the same either. Some nights they'd chat first, have a meal then traverse the forest with Stress as she did small tasks around her home. 

On other nights they'd go hunting first then chat the night away. But almost every night, the same two things would always happen with a sharp consistency. 

Those sharp consistencies were a fist and sword duel between Iskall and Mumbo, with Stress as the doctor. And then a fight with the three of them against a large, summoned ice elemental. Not exactly in that order. 

Mumbo was trained under the Captain of the royal guard, Captain XisumaVoid. But his training consisted of parrying gentlemanly sword thrusts and other attacks. Something that would never happen in a real fight when all gloves were off. So, the prince taught himself how to aggressively use his weapon the best he could. But his skills on how to defend himself when an enemy managed to grab him spelt out his doom. 

Iskall, on the other hand, grew up constantly watching his back and fighting to stay alive. He knew how to get down and dirty when it came to a fight. That was one of the only reasons why he was still here today, but hand to hand combat only got someone so far. Especially when an opponent had a range advantage and a skill one-up in weapon handling. 

With each man wanting to know something different and break the norm, they came up with a solution. Mumbo would supply four well black smithed swords from the castle then teach Iskall how to use one when they confided with Stress for a night.

In return for the sword lessons, Iskall would practice a 'controlled' fist fight with the prince. Said fist fight would serve as a real one and neither party was allowed to hold back, as a real enemy would abide by those circumstances instead. 

The second consistency was instead- with the three of them working together, was meant to help Stress build up her ice magic capabilities and strength. It also allowed Iskall and Mumbo to attack something that wasn't each other.

Stress' return for that trade off was giving the men a safe place to  _ do _ all these actions without the risk of guards coming up. 

"Are you boys ready?" Stress asked, her spellbook in her right hand and at the ready to summon their target. 

Mumbo appeared relaxed with the sword in his hand. His dark blue cloak was neatly folded inside of Stress' cottage along with Iskall's grey coat. His brown eyes read confidence in every nook and cranny Stress looked. "I'm ready." 

Iskall visibly adjusted his grip on the sword handle multiple times before looking up at the sorcerer. His body looked tense but his facial expression read for ease. "Go for it." 

Stress took a deep breath. She then turned her back to her friend and held out her left arm, keeping her hand in an open palm with all of her fingers pointing away from her. 

The air suddenly went dry and even the slightest, rare breeze felt like it was freezing. Stress felt the tips of her fingers go numb as they normally did. Naturally, her left hand did multiple signs on it's own and eventually Stress' vision whited out completely, blinding her momentarily. 

After a moment, darkened colors because of the night returned to Stress and the feeling in her left hand began to return too. Now standing in front of her and her two peers was a large ice elemental. 

With a quick motion of her right hand and shutting her spellbook with a quick snap, Stress tucked it away at her side before shooting her left hand down to her side at an angle. 

"Go!" 

At her command, Iskall and Mumbo both sprinted forward at the elemental. Swords drawn and hanging back behind them to swing. 

The ice elemental let out a roar before raising both its hands and shooting out a cold blast at the two advancers. 

Stress felt her heart lurch at the sight like it did everytime an elemental went for her friends. But over time she had gotten comfortable knowing that Iskall and Mumbo were capable of handling themselves. She just needed to keep up with them and pull her own weight. But that's what this controlled attack was, practice for the real thing. 

Stress felt both her hands go numb this time. In a huge motion the sorcerer swung both her arms out in a circumference around herself. Then they both stopped when they were out in front of her. 

Both hands were glowing with a light blue glow and she could feel the power coursing through her body. The air around her began to feel even more bitter as she shot her own cold blast at the elemental like a single, focused beam of light striking through a cloudy day. 

Stress' vision went white and she was once again blinded momentarily. This was a common occurrence but it left her helpless to any possible sneak attacks which was dangerous in the heat of a fight. Then again; Stress still needed to find out more about herself and what she could do as a sorcerer. 

Stress heard the elemental roar out again. Now not only were her hands numb but it felt like her entire body just turned to slime. She felt herself drop to her knees in the grass as her vision faded away from white and back to normal. 

Eventually it got to a point where she could see a blurry figure leap up and swing down at the summoned one, most likely vanquishing it. Stress' vision was almost cleared entirely as Iskall and Mumbo were both running up to her. 

"Stress! You alright?" 

Despite her body being numb, she could feel two pairs of hands were now on her. One pair at her left shoulder and forearm, and the other pair at her right elbow and wrist. 

Stress blinked multiple times before turning her gaze to the grassy ground. "I think I'm alright." 

"That was one hell of an ice blast Stress. Visibly much stronger than previous ones we've seen you do." Iskall commented, helping her rise to her feet with Mumbo to the right. 

Mumbo's head turned down to the spell caster; his red eyes wide, curious and awake. "Was it the mushrooms?" 

Iskall audibly scoffed. "No, it wasn't the mushrooms! What is it with you and mushrooms?" 

"I'm telling you it was the mushrooms!" Mumbo shot back. "The mushrooms here have some sort of energy enhancement!" 

Stress just snickered again at the two. "Oh I feel loved." She commented absently, still mildly dazed. She simply cracked up more as her two peers walked her back to the cottage, the grass now covered with a small coat of frost and a light blanket of snow. 

-

Iskall felt himself shiver again for about the fourteenth time. He was sitting in a chair next to a fireplace in Stress' skull cottage with a cup of tea grasped within his hands. He had a blanket covering his legs and his coat was draped over his shoulders. 

Iskall couldn't help but to grin stupidly at himself. "Is this how TFC feels all the time when he's curled up like a cat?" He commented to mostly himself. 

Stress, who was sitting criss cross on a cushioned block, looked at the brown haired man with confusion. "TFC? Who's that?" 

Mumbo, who was sitting on the floor and going through a scrapbook of something, spoke up without looking back at either of them. "TFC is Iskall's superior in the stables. He's also a pretty good Black Smith and he takes orders from Captain X and my father." 

Iskall grinned, looking down at the floor. "Yeah, but during downtime when he's not running back and forth between the castle and stables, he's dozing off in his wooden rocking chair and catching dreams." 

Stress' eyebrows furrowed before leaning in closer and lowering her voice to whisper as if she would have been heard. "Is he old? That's what old people do right?" 

Iskall shut his eyes and snickered. Mumbo visibly stopped messing with whatever in his scrapbook to process what Stress said fully. 

Iskall reopened his eye and looked at Stress. "Yeah, you could say that. Just not to his face. He'll get a little cranky with you." 

Stress sat back up straight and nodded, looking as if she had just unlocked the secrets of the stars. "Ah, I understand." 

The three fell into a comfortable silence. The only things breaking said silence were the sounds of paper folding about and the occasional cracks of the flames. This was normal for them, just sitting together in silence and not worrying about the rest of the world for a while. It was nice. 

"So what exciting things have been happening back at River-Sun?" Stress finally asked, craning her head toward the two. 

Mumbo stopped what he was doing, then in one full motion, Mumbo was turned toward Stress with his scrapbook in his hands. The book was already flipped to a specific page. "I was actually just about to ask you about this." 

"Oh?" Stress blinked before carefully taking the book in her hands and looking down at the page. The page had a hand drawn human bird creature on it. Drawn with angel wings on its back and feathers falling downward on its human arms. It also had multiple numbers, readings and descriptions. 

Mumbo continued. "We purchased a bird human three days ago before we came here. He had human arms with feathers. The feathers on his human arms are much too small for flight, but the wings on it's back… those tell a different story." 

Stress squinted at the page. "A male, harpy?" 

Iskall shook his head, commenting up. "A male alright. But a harpy? Mumbo and I thought so at first, but Grian's too human to possibly be one." 

Stress blinked, processing what her friend just said. "I'm sorry… Grian? Did you mean grain? Did you both name a bird,  _ Grain _ ?" 

Mumbo shot Stress a look of confusion. "No. He isn't bread. He's a bird human creature. Besides, he came with that name." 

The three fell silent as Stress averted her eyes back down to the scrapbook page. 

Iskall quietly lifted the cup up to his lips and took a small sip of his tea, waiting for either of his two peers to speak up next. He lowered the cup after his fill and observed his peers. 

Mumbo appeared to be messing with his thumbs until he stopped with that action too. He drew in a breath and spoke up through the silence. 

"Have you by chance found anything about my condition yet?" 

Iskall watched Stress visibly shrink down. Her head turned down and the scrapbook was gently dropped in her lap. Her brown hair fell over her eyes and obscured them, making it difficult for either him or Mumbo to read her. But her body language spoke more than words ever could. 

"No, not yet. I haven't found anything on it. No documented curses, no potion mixes. Nothing. It's like it's never been documented down, or like it's never existed until now." Stress murmured, sounding ashamed and disappointed at her lack of information. 

Mumbo's eyebrows furrowed and his eyes narrowed in some sort of emotion or process of it. He then wordlessly shook his head. "It's fine. Maybe it's not even magic that's causing it." 

Stress turned her head back up. Her hair parted away from her eyes. "No! It's not fine! I'll figure out what's affecting you! I promised that to you!" 

This time it was Iskall's turn to turn his head down. He stared down at the liquid in his cup.  _ "She isn't wrong."  _ He told himself.  _ "She promised that she'd find out something, or find someone else who could."  _

Iskall did his best to obscure his scrunched up facial expression. He was told that he always did it when he was deep in though, Mumbo said it was his serious thinking face. Stating that almost everyone had that kind of face. Stress on the other and said it looked cute and funny, playfully mimicking him on some occasions whenever she caught him doing it. 

Iskall for one thought it was embarrassing. But he gave his two friends the benefit of the doubt. Besides, when you're too concentrated on something; then you were thinking right. 

_ "Who else could possibly use strong enough magic to even try for a cure for Mumbo? The only real person I've seen some type of magic is Scar, other than Stress. But Scar's magic is heavily out of practice unfortunately."  _

Iskall shut his eye, floating over his questions and concerns for a split second longer before shoving them to the back of his mind. He opened his green eye and stared off into the fire pit, watching flames rise and fall. 

The three once again fell into silence. This time no paper flipping broke through it, only the cracks and pops of the flames in the fireplace. 


End file.
